10

Viktor Redwood, was in a rush. His best friend Yurio, had called him at around three am begging him to go out to celebrate Viktor's birthday. As if Viktor wanted any kind of celebration, but when it came from someone as annoying as Yurio it was worth getting dressed up and going out with his best friend for his birthday party. He really couldn't care less though. The only thing he cared about was the fact that tonight was going to be the first night of his training for two weeks. Two weeks where Viktor would be doing a whole lot more than train; Viktor was looking forward to his training sessions with Yakov and Yuri.

"Yakov!" Viktor yelled, running into the living room of the apartment and practically crashing into the man. The old man grunted and pushed the man back onto his own feet before turning away from his laptop. The TV was playing some random show on Netflix, as always. He wasn't one to watch shows during his free time, which was most of the time anyway.

The old man didn't seem too pleased with his interruption, but nonetheless turned to face his nephew. "Yes?" Yakov said simply. "I need my car."

Yakov sighed and ran a hand through his gray hair. "I told you already; I'm not giving you your car until tomorrow morning." Viktor frowned slightly.

'What does this old hag want now.' Viktor thought angrily, "Can you at least give me an idea when I can get my car?" He asked. Yakov rolled his eyes.

"Tomorrow morning, Viktor." He repeated. Viktor let out a frustrated sigh. "Why do you insist on asking the same damn question every year? It doesn't matter anyways. Your car will probably be here tomorrow afternoon or evening." Viktor huffed and walked back towards the door. He paused before he opened it however, and turned back to look at Yakov.

"By the way," Viktor said suddenly, "how are things going with Grandpa?" He hadn't seen Yakov since he got back from America a few weeks ago. Yakov looked surprised by Viktor's sudden change of topic. After a moment of hesitation, Yakov shrugged.

"Fine. Just fine." He replied, looking away from Viktor.

"That's good to hear." Viktor replied. He opened the door and stepped outside of his uncle's apartment. Yakov gave him another quick wave goodbye before returning to whatever work he'd previously been working on.

Viktor walked down the hall towards the stairs, but stopped dead in his tracks as he saw a small figure sitting on top of the banister.

Oh god, he thought, he thinks that I live here! Why is he still here?!

Viktor watched with wide eyes as the child looked around and eventually made his way down the steps towards Viktor.

The boy reached the bottom step. He stood there in silence. He seemed to be thinking, Viktor could see the gears moving behind his eyes and the corners of his mouth were slightly turned upwards. When the boy spoke, however, his voice sent chills down Viktor's spine.

"You're the one that lives here right?" The boy spoke, his tone curious yet somewhat serious. Viktor gulped, but nodded. The kid smiled brightly and stuck out his arm.

"Hi! I'm Yuuri Katsuki! I live downstairs too!" Viktor stared at the boy for a few seconds, trying to make sense of why this small child was standing in front of his apartment building, asking him for help.

Before he could answer though, a loud honking noise sounded from behind him. Viktor turned and spotted a white minivan pulling up next to the curb.

"Hey, Katsuki!" One of the men inside shouted, stepping out of his car. He wore jeans, a dark blue tank top, and black boots. He had long brown hair pulled back in a bun. "Get in the car!" He continued waving his arm around. Yuuri smiled again and jumped off the side of the stairs.

"Coming!" He called back to Viktor. He turned back to face him, his smile gone. "Um...thanks! Sorry for bothering you!" He waved. Viktor nodded, watching the small child run to the waiting van. Then, the van started and drove off down the street. Yuuri was already climbing back up the steps to his apartment when Viktor finally managed to snap out of his stupor. He looked over at his apartment and felt a pang of sadness. Even after all these years, even after moving out, he still felt like his place was his home. A place where he belonged.

With a heavy sigh, Viktor turned back towards the apartment. The last thing he needed was to feel sad today. Tomorrow he would be starting to learn how to dance with Yura and then, he'll have to leave. No, leaving isn't happening today. He just needs to focus on his skating. That's something he has control over. So with renewed determination, Viktor walked across the threshold of his apartment. The moment the door closed behind him, he threw his jacket onto the couch and headed towards the kitchen to grab himself something to drink.

A glass of water should do.

He walked over to the fridge and opened it. A bottle of red wine sat inside. Viktor grabbed it and popped off the lid. He poured the cold, metallic liquid into a tumbler and poured himself a healthy amount. Viktor took a sip of the wine, savoring the taste. It reminded him of home. His mom would sometimes serve her special wine from their vineyard. She'd often say that they had their own private vineyard right out in their backyard. They even had an elevator leading up to the roof so they could enjoy the beautiful sunset.

He took a long drink of his glass. This reminded him of his family. There wasn't much else he knew about them other than that they died in an accident when Viktor was six. His parents never talked about their death at any point. And Viktor hated them for that. He didn't like to think of them as being dead. He liked to think they were alive somewhere. Somewhere happy and loving. But no matter what he did, he couldn't find them anywhere.

Maybe this was what he needed to get a grip on life. To find something that reminded him of home. Maybe he would meet another Russian couple that loved the color green, or maybe he would meet the love of his life. Either way, he didn't want to go through life without knowing anything about them. He'd rather know everything and try to find the answers he needed. It would certainly keep him busy for two weeks, he decided, as he carried his wine glass back to the living room and plopped down onto the sofa.

He had spent all day training; the adrenaline from that was still coursing through him. For hours, he'd been pushing himself to try and improve his jumps, spins and spins. He practiced for hours. Sometimes, he would take breaks to eat, but mostly he pushed himself until he collapsed onto his mat in exhaustion. He usually fell asleep before he finished practicing, which he found to be a good thing. In the morning when he woke up, he was exhausted. He wouldn't sleep well because of it.

Today's routine was different however. Today was different. Today was the day that he'd be performing at the Rostelecom Cup. The Rostelecom Cup was held in Moscow, Russia, and Viktor was nervous. Very nervous. His entire family was participating in the competition, which meant there would be hundreds of people there for the exhibition. Not many people were qualified to compete there, but Viktor was determined to get in. If he performed well enough for everyone there to come back and talk about it, maybe he'd be able to convince his coach to get him a spot in the upcoming Rostelecom Cup season.

As soon as he finished showering and changing, Viktor headed into the living room to wait for Yakov. The television wasn't really interesting, so he left it alone and decided to go check if there were any more presents in the mail from Yuuri. The boy had sent him several gifts over the past week. Some of them consisted of expensive jewelry and clothing (which Viktor definitely appreciated), others consisted of little trinkets such as books or other knickknacks that were given to him by his fans, and many more. Each gift was carefully wrapped and placed in a neat pile in the corner of the living room by the door.

Each present was always given to him in person. Whenever the boy saw him, he'd either send him a letter or give him a package of food that he was able to buy from wherever they sold it. Sometimes, there were gifts from his family that came in the mail, but none of them really meant anything to Viktor compared to those few gifts from Yuuri. None of the rest of them brought back memories of family nights and late night dinners together in their shared dorm. None of the gifts from his family made him feel happier and closer to them. All of the others just made him homesick for something that he could never quite reach. Yuuri's gifts were nice though. Yuuri's gifts were nice. They made his home feel less empty, but they also made his heart hurt all the same.

Once his search ended, Viktor sat down on the couch and flicked idly through a magazine while he waited for Yakov. He heard a knock on the door. When no one answered, the knocking grew more insistent and Viktor looked up. When he saw the tall man walk through the doorway of his apartment, Viktor quickly got up from the sofa and greeted his coach.

"What's up?" He asked cheerily, giving Yakov a brief hug. Yakov returned the hug and shook his head.

"I don't know. How long are you staying for?" He asked. Viktor shrugged.

"Not sure yet…I don't think I've decided." He replied. The pair continued chatting for a while longer, catching up on each other's life. Once Yakov had finished talking, Viktor noticed something odd about his coach's expression.

"What's the matter? Are you alright? You seem upset." Viktor asked curiously. Yakov sighed.

"Nothing is wrong. Nothing is going on at all. I'm fine." He insisted. "And I'm only coming for half an hour anyway. We will need to go to the airport early tomorrow, and we will need to catch our flight to Beijing."

"That makes me feel a bit better. At least someone seems to be enjoying themselves." Viktor smirked. Yakov let out a scoff and rolled his eyes.

"It's not my fault you don't know how to cook." He said. "Why you even tried was beyond me."

"You mean you weren't the one who taught me how to cook in the first place?" Viktor questioned with a smirk. He laughed and leaned against the counter, crossing his arms and waiting for a response. Yakov huffed before answering.

"No."

The two went silent for a bit, both lost in thought. They watched each other for a moment, neither wanting to speak up first. Suddenly, Viktor cleared his throat.

"So, I know you said you were only coming for an hour, but do you want me to order us some dinner?" Viktor suggested.

"Sure, that sounds perfect." His coach nodded in reply.

Viktor stood up straight and grabbed his phone, scrolling through his contacts until he found the one labeled 'Yakov'. He pressed the call button and held it to his ear. After three rings, there was a click and the voice of the older man filled the apartment.